Memoirs of another day - Arun Roy Mukherjee

XXIV : While in this school at Rampurhat, a fuuny incident happened and I still enjoy a hearty laugh whenever it come up in my mind. I was then a student of class IV. A notice was circulated that a high government official was coming to visit our school. So the Headmaster and the teachers started preparing for the impending visit by the official. The Headmaster, who knew my father and also knew that my mother can sing songs, requested that a few boys be trained by my mother in singing a good song of welcome. My mother accepted the proposal and started training four of us, all students of the school. My mother selected “ Swagato, Swagato he aji atithi”, a Bengali song of Rabindranath for the occasion. It so happened that the said government official was also to visit some other institutions also. The organizers and officials of those institutions got the message of our music training and approached my mother to allow the boys to sing the same song at their functions when the government official visited their places. My mother told them to take up the matter with the school headmaster for such permission. Any way, permission was granted. It was so arranged that we, the four of us, would first attend the school when the officer arrives and after completing the song, shall immediately leave for the next venue of his visit and so on. On the appointed day, the officer arrived at our school first. We sang the song and then was almost snatched away for the next venue. We arrived and sang our song and so completed three such places one after the other. The incident happened at the forth spot. The officer arrived, was welcomed and garlanded and took his chair on the temporary dias. We were all ready with our harmonium et all. As soon as we started to sing, the officer jumped on his fit. He was in state of fury. He raised a finger at us and shouted in chaste Bengali “Ei chorara, tora tham to. Sei sakal theke jekhane jachchi, seikhanei ei choraguno amar pechon pechon giye suru korch Hagoto, Hagoto. Jathesto hoyeche. Ar noy.” (You boys, just stop your music. From early morning wherever I am going these boys are following me and starting their song “defecate, defecate”. I had had enough of that.)

Memoirs

I thought of writing something on a current issue. I now do not remember what it is all about. I have become old. I shall surely come back the moment my memory helps me.